www.CostaRicaTicas.com

The Fool Slayer
(with apologies to the writers O Henry or someone like him)



The Fool Slayer trudged into San Jose one summer eve. He was a big man, 9’6”, 450 lbs of solid muscle, wild unkempt hair and an executioner's look in his eyes. (as an aside he had but a 2” johnson albeit his prodigious frame- but that is another story)

His size, the large club he carried over his shoulder and his dusty clothes and shoes gave him the appearance of a perhaps homeless and unemployed ‘Circus’ sideshow exhibit.

Oddly enough, while all the Ch*ldren found his presence without alarm, (indeed many clamored for his attention and demanded tricks and tribute), the adult populace gave him wide berth as he strolled up the hill towards Morazan Park.

Passing by the New York Bar, the Fool Slayer peered over the 8 foot high sidewalk rail and took note of the crowd about the horseshoe bar.

“Maybe I can find employment here”, he muttered. “No, no” he corrected himself,” not enough work here to pay for my troubles.”

But the glitter of brighter lights and cries emanating from the large hotel further up the street caught his attention and drew him close.

Stooping down outside the main doors, guarded by doorkeepers, the Fool Slayer once again peered inside to behold hundreds of little darlings with both weary yet patronizing appearances engaged in conversation either with themselves or with the equally crowded presence of dullards with appearances as though lambs being led to the slaughter.

Clouds of smoke (from imitation Cuban cigars), piles of chips at the gaming tables disappearing as fast as they could be wagered, exclamations of “Cien,Cien” filled his view. And, oddly enough, all the wall clocks had been allotted but 20 minutes per hour.

“What crime have these people committed to be punished in such manner?” the Fool Slayer asked a street urchin.

“Oh, they are not being punished” replied the urchin. “They have all voluntarily entered this noble establishment.”

Shaking his head, the Fool Slayer said to himself, “Too big a job for me.”

Making his way to the park and a night’s sleep in two, empty refrigerator cardboard boxes, he resolved to tackle something more manageable the next day.

“Someone told me about ‘pushy’ MP operators”, he reminded himself.

_________________
The difference between a Sea Story and a Fairy Tale is that a Fairy Tale starts out 'Once Upon a Time..' and a Sea Story starts out 'This is no Shit...'

(export version only, some restrictions may apply, some assembly required, not valid where the sun don't shine...

if you live in the states of Poverty, Darkness or anywhere outside of The Blessings of Civilization Trust, Inc...other rules may apply)

I hope there's a chapter 2...

_________________

Living well is the best revenge
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MwUtj_YnNoY

Damn Cali:

I told you that you were working too many hours then heading down to those DC bars for the "Happy Hour." Hell, that's what happens when you've been away from your Colombian sweetie for too long. "I feel your pain" as another notable DC operative said many times.

"Fool Slayer," I've got to think about that one.

_________________
Damn if I'm going to repeat this shit again. I need a drink.
I've been drinking vodka every day for 45 years and I have certainly never found it to be habit forming.

The Fool Slayer woke as dusk was setting over the city of San Jose.

“Goodness, I’ve slept the day thru” he mumbled as he scratched his 2 inch stub.

Crawling out from his lair under the sidewalk overhand outside the Nasty Rasta store, littered with empty minis,

he made his way across the Park again in search of employment.

Once again voices from inside the large hotel attracted his attention.

Peering inside, he saw and heard one excited greenhorn exclaim, “I can call the Little Darlings from their barside seats.”

A weary, limping, older vet replied” Why so can I, or any man, but will they answer when you call?”

“Why, I can teach you, vet, to command the Little Darlings.” said the greenhorn.

“And I can teach thee, greenhorn, how to discount the Little Darlings.

By pleading poverty, plead poverty and discount the Little Darlings.

If you have The Cien to raise them, bring them hither.

And I’ll be sworn I have the Low Rent Power to discount them hence.

O, while you live, plead poverty and discount the Little Darlings.” replied the vet.

The Fool Slayer just shook his head, “Out of professional courtesy, I must pass again.”

Looking about the potholed streets, with cries of ‘Mi Amor’, ‘Te Amo’, ‘Papito’ ringing in his ears as a legion of street urchins, fake Cuban cigar salesmen, blood pressure attendents and innocent fruit vendors surrounded him, the cityscape gave belie to a veritable haven of Fools.

“San Jose is but a pueblo, bereft of suitable employment” he sighed. “Oh why, oh why, did I ever leave my beloved Pits Of Jax?”

“I am almost tempted to take the next bus out of town and head south, yes south to Panama. And if Panama is found lacking, I shall journey further to Colombia” he thought.

_________________
The difference between a Sea Story and a Fairy Tale is that a Fairy Tale starts out 'Once Upon a Time..' and a Sea Story starts out 'This is no Shit...'

(export version only, some restrictions may apply, some assembly required, not valid where the sun don't shine...

if you live in the states of Poverty, Darkness or anywhere outside of The Blessings of Civilization Trust, Inc...other rules may apply)

duplicate.

_________________
The difference between a Sea Story and a Fairy Tale is that a Fairy Tale starts out 'Once Upon a Time..' and a Sea Story starts out 'This is no Shit...'

(export version only, some restrictions may apply, some assembly required, not valid where the sun don't shine...

if you live in the states of Poverty, Darkness or anywhere outside of The Blessings of Civilization Trust, Inc...other rules may apply)

Made for a movie, C-Dude.

I can see it...sort of shot like a spaghetti Western, all ponies and dramatic music, maybe some guy mournfully blowing a harmonica. Too bad they don't have tumbleweeds in Costa Rica.

Great story. And no, it wasn't O. Henry who wrote in this style. It was Baby Ruth.

_________________
Pura Vulva! Wandering through the dark, I am El Ciego.

The Fool Slayer, his long grey hair and beard framing fatal, restless eyes with an executioners look, trudged wearily back into San Jose.

His journeys south in search of suitable employment, such as smiting politicians or drunken tourists, had lamentably ended for naught.

True, he had ventured through Panama, the Darien Gap and beyond. Into Medellin, the countryside to the south all the way to Cali and back he had wandered; only to find any sort of work had already been completed by the local populace.

And so, bereft of hope, he had made his Walk of Shame back north, north to San Jose, the Land of Always Manana.

A year or so ago, he had landed on the coast with a solitary dollar, the same sum he yet held. He boiled at indignation at his plight, dusty clothes of ancient cut, almost barefoot and a now confirmed consumer of beans and rice.

Making his way across Morazan Park, with the hour well past midnight yet with Venus and her sister Luna still low above the western hills, he made with almost light step towards the Del Rey.

“Surely”, he muttered, “ I shall find ample tasks there”.

But, to his dismay, peering into the door, he found only somber shadows and emptiness where once had raged carnivals of foolishness, hours of twenty minutes and drunken corpulence.

“Wha, Wha, WTF?” he stuttered and questioned a few straggler little darlings, “What is going on?”

“We are being saved”, was their reply.

Thumping his Fool Slayer club, he made his way to the Central Market in search of a sidewalk vendor and food.

Helping himself to beans, rice and some sort of mystery Tico Pie at the first stand he encountered, he started to stuff his face until he gagged and cried, “this stuff tastes like SHIT!”.

“Si, Senor Fool Slayer”, replied the vendor, “Verdad, that will be 310 colones.”

“Charge it”, answered the Fool Slayer.

“Will that be Credit or Debit?”

“Debit, as in I owe you an ass whipping” growled the Fool Slayer, his club raised menacingly.

“No, no!” cried the vendor, “I am beneath your notice, besides, I have it on good report there is a fool tourist in Jaco expecting to be picked up solely because he paid for the ride in advance.”

“Hmmmm”, thought the Fool Slayer, “I shall retire to my abode under the overhang in front of the old Nasty Rasta shop and make my way there manana.”

_________________
The difference between a Sea Story and a Fairy Tale is that a Fairy Tale starts out 'Once Upon a Time..' and a Sea Story starts out 'This is no Shit...'

(export version only, some restrictions may apply, some assembly required, not valid where the sun don't shine...

if you live in the states of Poverty, Darkness or anywhere outside of The Blessings of Civilization Trust, Inc...other rules may apply)

I can hardly wait for the next chapter.

_________________
Pura Vulva! Wandering through the dark, I am El Ciego.

I'm thinking the next installment should include include a thuggish tourist that preys on innocent fruit vendors and offers naive pilgrims tours of Morazan Park!

_________________
The difference between a Sea Story and a Fairy Tale is that a Fairy Tale starts out 'Once Upon a Time..' and a Sea Story starts out 'This is no Shit...'

(export version only, some restrictions may apply, some assembly required, not valid where the sun don't shine...

if you live in the states of Poverty, Darkness or anywhere outside of The Blessings of Civilization Trust, Inc...other rules may apply)

I hope he has his diacort! LMAO

YYeah Ken... without Diacort, the Fool Slayer becomes the Stool Sprayer.

_________________
Pura Vulva! Wandering through the dark, I am El Ciego.

LMAO.......... and ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! LOL